August 20, 1990 - Happy Birthday, Bony Refugee

You would have been 33 years old today. The same age as Jesus when He was crucified. Do you get to talk with Him about that? What a privilege that must be. I know you relied on him heavily before the day you left us.

I wanted to celebrate this weekend differently. Back in December, Dad called me. I was Christmas shopping in Jonesboro. I had just walked out of the Five Below. He said tickets to see Metallica in Dallas were only $100, for TWO nights (different sets, different openers each night - Pantera and Mammoth WVH on Friday; Five Finger Death Punch and Ice Nine Kills on Sunday). What a steal. What a show!! He said that could be my Christmas present: "Get 2 and take someone with you." Kattie, if she was able; Kortni maybe if Kattie couldn't make it. I could drive down, not only spend mother/daughter time, but stay with MY sister. See the nieces and great nephews. Spend your actual birthday at the 2nd show then hightail it back here and even be at work on Monday for the first day of classes. I'd be tired but I could've done it. Even if I'd flown - flights go directly from Memphis to DFW and back. I would've made it work.

But no. This didn't even count as an exception to the rule, so...oh well. I stayed here. I sold my tickets; will get about 85% back of what I paid originally for both. I'll use it to register for the event I'm going to in October and that vacation leave was approved.

I worked all day on the 18th and have enjoyed the weekend anyway. I hiked in the woods at Village Creek, got a good nap, ate my meals. Wrote some more on my latest book. (It will be ready by Halloween, I promise!!) Was up fairly late.

It was hard to get up on Sunday. I sent you a birthday text. I wish you could answer.

I made an omelet for "brunch." It didn't look very pretty but it tasted good. Y'know, the very first time I made an omelet, a la Julia Child, if flipped perfectly. I have been unable to recreate that feat effectively since. I flip it and it goes all over the place, even in my special Wolfgang Puck omelet pan.

I added some avocado and baked a can of biscuits to try some apple butter one of my faculty had made. It was good. I drank coffee out of my Disney Villainess World Domination mug. Elephant was very interested in joining me for breakfast; he doesn't normally do that, but he was peeking over that edge of the cage. Probably wondering where you were.

I finished The Blanket Of Evil from Dark Shadows. Only took me seven years, haha. Now I can focus on the chevron afghan Dad wants: with purple and yellow because of some LSU joke you two shared; maroon and white for Killeen's colors; and green, your favorite color. It will look almost like the blanket I made for Gabriel. I did some comic reading. I don't know why I let them pile up. We could have read them with the boys.

I noticed today that several famous people share your birthday. Notable ones are Robert Plant of Led Zeppelin. Ke Huy Quan from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. Misha Collins from Supernatural, the other "Cass" LOL. (Luke still watches. I think he's on his third run.) H.P. Lovecraft. Dimebag Darrell. Phil Lynott of Thin Lizzy. You're in good company.

Made my last meal kit meal for dinner. I don't have the strength for your favorite. Besides, Dad (and your grandma) makes much better Chicken and Dumplings than I do anyway. I did have a cocktail in your honor: A Hawaiian mimosa, or I call it now, a Cassondra. That's what we were drinking that last night you were home with us. What an awesome weekend that was. I wish we could do it again. I ate Reese's today, too, because that's just what I needed to do.

Even though this weekend didn't go the way I'd originally planned, I did try to enjoy it. Dad's out in Wyoming on another motorcycle/photography adventure, and I'm here. Far from "home" myself but there is a lot about where I am that IS good. One of my friends texted me Friday morning asking if I was okay and that meant a lot to me. I appreciated that tremendously.

I tried not to let the disappointment get me down. I tried not to think about it. (The Old Scarlett O'Hara Tactic: "I'll think about it tomorrow.") It's your birthday, but that's now a text you can't answer, a phone call or a FaceTime you won't pick up. You aren't able to come home or visit me, and I can't go where you are. Not any time soon, anyway. I promised you I'd make it to 100 and you'll be upset if I don't honor that. Forty-six years will be a long time to see you again but if I show up sooner, you'll send me back:

"Not yet, Mom!!"

We miss you a lot. The world is less brighter. We have little tolerance for things that aren't that important in the long run. I've written line upon line about this; things that I'm not ready to share but someday maybe I'll publish of book of these essays I've done since 2021. Rants, breakdowns, monologues. Sometimes they're overwhelming and I have to just stop and breathe.

But this is YOUR birthday celebration and I did it the best I could under the circumstances. I really wish you could have been here. Dad got you the best gift though by having those climbers take your keychain up to the top of Devils Tower. That's really special. I know you'll love the view.

Happy birthday, Bony Refugee.